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The Space Opera Megapack: 20 Modern and Classic Science Fiction Tales

Page 45

by John W. Campbell


  As Dunark sent the message, the Skylark’s people hurried aboard, and Seaton drove the vessel toward the calls for help. With its great speed it reached the monster before the plane was overtaken. Focusing the attractor upon the enormous metallic beak of the karlon, Seaton threw on the power and the beast halted in midair as it was jerked backward and upward. As it saw the puny size of the attacking Skylark, it opened its cavernous mouth in a horrible roar and rushed at full speed. Seaton, unwilling to have the repellers stripped from the vessel, turned on the current actuating them. The karlon was hurled backward to the point of equilibrium of the two forces, where it struggled demoniacally.

  Seaton carried his captive back to the smelter, where finally, by judicious pushing and pulling, he succeeded in turning the monster flat upon its back and pinning it to the ground in spite of its struggles to escape.

  Soon the scientists arrived and studied the animal thoroughly, at as close a range as its flailing arms permitted.

  “I wish we could kill him without blowing him to bits,” wirelessed Dunark. “Do you know any way of doing it?”

  “We could if we had a few barrels of ether, or some of our own poison gases, but they are all unknown here and it would take a long time to build the apparatus to make them. I’ll see if I can’t tire him out and get him that way as soon as you’ve studied him enough. We may be able to find out where he lives, too.”

  The scientists having finished their observations, Seaton jerked the animal a few miles into the air and shut off the forces acting upon it. There was a sudden crash, and the karlon, knowing that this apparently insignificant vessel was its master, turned in headlong flight.

  “Have you any idea what caused the noise just then, Dick?” asked Crane; who, with characteristic imperturbability, had taken out his notebook and was making exact notes of all that transpired.

  “I imagine we cracked a few of his plates,” replied Seaton with a laugh, as he held the Skylark in place a few hundred feet above the fleeing animal.

  Pitted for the first time in its life against an antagonist, who could both outfly and outfight it, the karlon redoubled its efforts and fled in a panic of fear. It flew back over the city of Kondalek, over the outlying country, and out over the ocean, still followed easily by the Skylark. As they neared the Mardonalian border, a fleet of warships rose to contest the entry of the monster. Seaton, not wishing to let the foe see the rejuvenated Skylark, jerked his captive high into the thin air. As soon as it was released, it headed for the ocean in an almost perpendicular dive, while Seaton focused an object-compass upon it.

  “Go to it, old top,” he addressed the plunging monster. “We’ll follow you clear to the bottom of the ocean if you go that far!”

  There was a mighty double splash as the karlon struck the water, closely followed by the Skylark. The girls gasped as the vessel plunged below the surface at such terrific speed, and seemed surprised that it had suffered no injury and that they had felt no jar. Seaton turned on the powerful searchlights and kept close enough so that he could see the monster through the transparent walls. Deeper and deeper the quarry dove, until it was plainly evident to the pursuers that it was just as much at home in the water as it was in the air. The beams of the lights revealed strange forms of life, among which were huge, staring-eyed fishes, which floundered about blindly in the unaccustomed glare. As the karlon bored still deeper, the living things became scarcer, but still occasional fleeting glimpses were obtained of the living nightmares which inhabited the oppressive depths of these strange seas. Continuing downward, the karlon plumbed the nethermost pit of the ocean and came to rest upon the bottom, stirring up a murk of ooze.

  “How deep are we, Mart?”

  “About four miles. I have read the pressure, but will have to calculate later exactly what depth it represents, from the gravity and density readings.”

  As the animal showed no sign of leaving its retreat, Seaton pulled it out with the attractor and it broke for the surface. Rising through the water at full speed, it burst into the air and soared upward to such an incredible height that Seaton was amazed.

  “I wouldn’t have believed that anything could fly in air this thin!” he exclaimed.

  “It is thin up here,” assented Crane. “Less than three pounds to the square inch. I wonder how he does it?”

  “It doesn’t look as though we are ever going to find out—he’s sure a bear-cat!” replied Seaton, as the karlon, unable to ascend further, dropped in a slanting dive toward the lowlands of Kondal—the terrible, swampy region covered with poisonous vegetation and inhabited by frightful animals and even more frightful savages. The monster neared the ground with ever-increasing speed. Seaton, keeping close behind it, remarked to Crane:

  “He’ll have to flatten out pretty quick, or he’ll burst something, sure.”

  But it did not flatten out. It struck the soft ground head foremost and disappeared, its tentacles apparently boring a way ahead of it.

  Astonished at such an unlooked-for development, Seaton brought the Skylark to a stop and stabbed into the ground with the attractor. The first attempt brought up nothing but a pillar of muck, the second brought to light a couple of wings and one writhing arm, the third brought the whole animal, still struggling as strongly as it had in the first contest. Seaton again lifted the animal high into the air.

  “If he does that again, we’ll follow him.”

  “Will the ship stand it?” asked DuQuesne, with interest.

  “Yes. The old bus wouldn’t have, but this one can stand anything. We can go anywhere that thing can, that’s a cinch. If we have enough power on, we probably won’t even feel a jolt when we strike ground.”

  Seaton reduced the force acting upon the animal until just enough was left to keep the attractor upon it, and it again dived into the swamp. The Skylark followed, feeling its way in the total darkness, until the animal stopped, refusing to move in any direction, at a depth estimated by Crane to be about three-quarters of a mile. After waiting some time Seaton increased the power of the attractor and tore the karlon back to the surface and into the air, where it turned on the Skylark with redoubled fury.

  “We’ve dug him out of his last refuge and he’s fighting like a cornered rat,” said Seaton as he repelled the monster to a safe distance. “He’s apparently as fresh as when he started, in spite of all this playing. Talk about a game fish! He doesn’t intend to run any more, though, so I guess we’ll have to put him away. It’s a shame to bump him off, but it’s got to be done.”

  Crane aimed one of the heavy Xplosive bullets at the savagely-struggling monster, and the earth rocked with the concussion as the shell struck its mark. They hurried back to the smelter, where Dunark asked eagerly:

  “What did you find out about it?”

  “Nothing much,” replied Seaton, and in a few words described the actions of the karlon. “What did your savants think of it?”

  “Very little that any of us can understand in terms of any other known organism. It seems to combine all the characteristics of bird, beast, and fish, and to have within itself the possibilities of both bisexual and asexual reproduction.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it—it’s a queer one, all right.”

  The copper bars were cool enough to handle, and the Skylark was loaded with five times its original supply of copper, the other vessel taking on a much smaller amount. After the Kofedix had directed the officer in charge to place the remaining bars in easily-accessible places throughout the nation, the two vessels were piloted back to the palace, arriving just in time for the last meal of the kokam.

  “Well, Dunark,” said Seaton after the meal was over, “I’m afraid that we must go back as soon as we can. Dorothy’s parents and Martin’s bankers will think they are dead by this time. We should start right now, but.…”

  “Oh, no, you must not do that. That would rob our people of the chance of bidding you goodbye.”

  “There’s another reason, too. I have a mighty big favor to ask
of you.”

  “It is granted. If man can do it, consider it done.”

  “Well, you know platinum is a very scarce and highly useful metal with us. I wonder if you could let us have a few tons of it? And I would like to have another faidon, too—I want to see if I can’t analyze it.”

  “You have given us a thousand times the value of all the platinum and all the jewels your vessel can carry. As soon as the foundries are open tomorrow we will go and load up your store-rooms—or, if you wish, we will do it now.”

  “That isn’t necessary. We may as well enjoy your hospitality for one more sleeping-period, get the platinum during the first work-period, and bid you goodbye just before the second meal. How would that be?”

  “Perfectly satisfactory.”

  The following kokam, Dunark piloted the Skylark, with Seaton, Crane, and DuQuesne as crew, to one of the great platinum foundries. The girls remained behind to get ready for their departure, and for the great ceremony which was to precede it. The trip to the foundry was a short one, and the three scientists of Earth stared at what they saw—thousands of tons of platinum, cast into bars and piled up like pig-iron, waiting to be made into numerous articles of every-day use throughout the nation. Dunark wrote out an order, which his chief attendant handed to the officer in charge of the foundry, saying:

  “Please have it loaded at once.”

  Seaton indicated the storage compartment into which the metal was to be carried, and a procession of slaves, two men staggering under one ingot, was soon formed between the pile and the storage room.

  “How much are you loading on, Dunark?” asked Seaton, when the large compartment was more than half full.

  “My order called for about twenty tons, in your weight, but I changed it later—we may as well fill that room full, so that the metal will not rattle around in flight. It doesn’t make any difference to us, we have so much of it. It is like your gift of the salt, only vastly smaller.”

  “What are you going to do with it all, Dick?” asked Crane. “That is enough to break the platinum market completely.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” returned Seaton, with a gleam in his gray eyes. “I’m going to burst this unjustifiable fad for platinum jewelry so wide open that it’ll never recover, and make platinum again available for its proper uses, in laboratories and in the industries.

  “You know yourself,” he rushed on hotly, “that the only reason platinum is used at all for jewelry is that it is expensive. It isn’t nearly so handsome as either gold or silver, and if it wasn’t the most costly common metal we have, the jewelry-wearing crowd wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. Useless as an ornament, it is the one absolutely indispensable laboratory metal, and literally hundreds of laboratories that need it can’t have it because over half the world’s supply is tied up in jeweler’s windows and in useless baubles. Then, too, it is the best thing known for contact points in electrical machinery. When the Government and all the scientific societies were abjectly begging the jewelers to let loose a little of it they refused—they were selling it to profiteering spendthrifts at a hundred and fifty dollars an ounce. The condition isn’t much better right now; it’s a vicious circle. As long as the price stays high it will be used for jewelry, and as long as it is used for jewelry the price will stay high, and scientists will have to fight the jewelers for what little they get.”

  “While somewhat exaggerated, that is about the way matters stand. I will admit that I, too, am rather bitter on the subject,” said Crane.

  “Bitter? Of course you’re bitter. Everybody is who knows anything about science and who has a brain in his head. Anybody who claims to be a scientist and yet stands for any of his folks buying platinum jewelry ought to be shot. But they’ll get theirs as soon as we get back. They wouldn’t let go of it before, they had too good a thing, but they’ll let go now, and get their fingers burned besides. I’m going to dump this whole shipment at fifty cents a pound, and we’ll take mighty good care that jewelers don’t corner the supply.”

  “I’m with you, Dick, as usual.”

  Soon the storage room was filled to the ceiling with closely-stacked ingots of the precious metal, and the Skylark was driven back to the landing dock. She alighted beside Dunark’s vessel, the Kondal, whose gorgeously-decorated crew of high officers sprang to attention as the four men stepped out. All were dressed for the ceremonial leave-taking, the three Americans wearing their spotless white, the Kondalians wearing their most resplendent trappings.

  “This formal stuff sure does pull my cork!” exclaimed Seaton to Dunark. “I want to get this straight. The arrangement was that we were to be here at this time, all dressed up, and wait for the ladies, who are coming under the escort of your people?”

  “Yes. Our family is to escort the ladies from the palace here. As they leave the elevator the surrounding war-vessels will salute, and after a brief ceremony you two will escort your wives into the Skylark, Doctor DuQuesne standing a little apart and following you in. The war-vessels will escort you as high as they can go, and the Kondal will accompany you as far as our most distant sun before turning back.”

  For a few moments Seaton nervously paced a short beat in front of the door of the space-car.

  “I’m getting more fussed every second,” he said abruptly, taking out his wireless instrument. “I’m going to see if they aren’t about ready.”

  “What seems to be the trouble, Dick? Have you another hunch, or are you just rattled?” asked Crane.

  “Rattled, I guess, but I sure do want to get going,” he replied, as he worked the lever rapidly.

  “Dottie,” he sent out, and, the call being answered, “How long will you be? We’re all ready and waiting, chewing our fingernails with impatience.”

  “We’ll soon be ready. The Karfedix is coming for us now.”

  Scarcely had the tiny sounder become silent when the air was shaken by an urgently-vibrated message, and every wireless sounder gave warning.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  The Invasion

  The pulsating air and the chattering sounders were giving the same dire warning, the alarm extraordinary of invasion, of imminent and catastrophic danger from the air.

  “Don’t try to reach the palace. Everyone on the ground will have time enough to hide in the deep, arenak-protected pits beneath the buildings, and you would be killed by the invaders long before you could reach the palace. If we can repel the enemy and keep them from landing, the women will be perfectly safe, even though the whole city is destroyed. If they effect a landing we are lost.”

  “They’ll not land, then,” Seaton answered grimly, as he sprang into the Skylark and took his place at the board. As Crane took out his wireless, Seaton cautioned him.

  “Send in English, and tell the girls not to answer, as these devils can locate the calls within a foot and will be able to attack the right spot. Just tell them we’re safe in the Skylark. Tell them to sit tight while we wipe out this gang that is coming, and that we’ll call them, once in a while, when we have time, during the battle.”

  Before Crane had finished sending the message the crescendo whine of enormous propellers was heard. Simultaneously there was a deafening concussion and one entire wing of the palace disappeared in a cloud of dust, in the midst of which could be discerned a few flying fragments. The air was filled with Mardonalian warships. They were huge vessels, each mounting hundreds of guns, and the rain of high-explosive shells was rapidly reducing the great city to a widespread heap of debris.

  Seaton’s hand was upon the lever which would hurl the Skylark upward into the fray. Crane and DuQuesne, each hard of eye and grim of jaw, were stationed at their machine-guns.

  “Something’s up!” exclaimed Seaton. “Look at the Kondal!”

  Something had happened indeed. Dunark sat at the board, his hand upon the power lever, and each of his crew was in place, grasping his weapon, but every man was writhing in agony, unable to control his movements. As they stared,
momentarily spellbound, the entire crew ceased their agonized struggles and hung, apparently lifeless, from their supports.

  “They’ve got to ’em some way—let’s go!” yelled Seaton.

  As his hand tightened upon the lever, a succession of shells burst upon the dock, wrecking it completely, all three men fancied that the world had come to an end as the stream of high explosive was directed against their vessel. But the four-foot shell of arenak was impregnable, and Seaton shot the Skylark upward into the midst of the enemy fleet. The two gunners fired as fast as they could sight their weapons, and with each shot one of the great warships was blown into fragments. The Mardonalians then concentrated the fire of their entire fleet upon their tiny opponent.

  From every point of the compass, from above and below, the enemy gunners directed streams of shells against the dodging vessel. The noise was more than deafening, it was one continuous, shattering explosion, and the Earthmen were surrounded by such a blaze of fire from the exploding shells that they could not see the enemy vessels. Seaton sought to dodge the shells by a long dive toward one side, only to find that dozens of new opponents had been launched against them—the deadly airplane-torpedoes of Osnome. Steered by wireless and carrying no crews, they were simply winged bombs carrying thousands of pounds of terrific electrical explosive—enough to kill the men inside the vessel by the concussion of the explosion, even should the arenak armor be strong enough to withstand the blow. Though much faster than the Osnomian vessels, they were slow beside the Skylark, and Seaton could have dodged a few of them with ease. As he dodged, however, they followed relentlessly, and in spite of those which were blown up by the gunners, their number constantly increased until Seaton thought of the repellers.

  “‘Nobody Holme’ is right!” he exclaimed, as he threw on the power actuating the copper bands which encircled the hull in all directions. Instantly the torpedoes were hurled backward, exploding as the force struck them, and even the shells were ineffective, exploding harmlessly, as they encountered the zone of force. The noise of the awful detonations lessened markedly.

 

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